


these firebirds sing by night

by jaqhad (kyrilu)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22209253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/jaqhad
Summary: Finn, Poe, and BB-8 had barely returned to camp from their mission on the moon of Avedot when Lieutenant Connix broadcast the order of evacuation.Or: the one where Finn and Poe scope out a planet that could potentially be the Resistance's new base and learn valuable lessons about themselves and the war.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	these firebirds sing by night

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place directly after the Star Wars: Allegiance comic and references Resistance Reborn, Age of Resistance, Bloodline, and the Poe comic. It should be fairly readable if you're not familiar, though, I think? 
> 
> Basically, it takes place pre-TROS, and Finn and Poe go on a mission together and are in love. /o\

Finn, Poe, and BB-8 had barely returned to camp from their mission on the moon of Avedot when Lieutenant Connix broadcast the order of evacuation.

“You’re kidding me,” Finn groaned. He was just about to step into one of the camp’s sonic showers, exhausted, grimy, and covered in sweat. It was often nigh impossible to get a turn on those things, a long line of returned pilots and oil-streaked technicians crowding the hastily set-up refreshers.

Usually, Finn used the sonic in the _Millennium Falcon_ – but that wasn’t a possibility, since Rey, General Organa, Rose, Chewbacca, and C3-PO had taken the _Falcon_ to Mon Cala.

With a sigh, he threw his clothes back on. He grabbed his go-bag, slung it over his shoulders, snapped on a respirator, and hurried over to the area where all the ships were docked.

It was chaos. Resistance members were loading equipment onto ships, barked commands and hurried chatter. Finn stopped to help one of the new recruits, a scrawny teenage pilot -- the boy made a grunting sound, annoyed, but he let Finn take the other end of the box he was struggling to carry and gave him a reluctant nod of thanks after they hauled it into a ship’s hull.

Eventually, he found Poe in the ship he had loaned from Grakkus the Hutt. Poe was in the pilot’s seat, headset on and fiddling with the controls.

“They found us again?” Finn asked. His voice was muffled, and he belatedly remembered to slip off his respirator mask.

“They found us again,” Poe confirmed. “We received early warning, since one of Threepio’s operatives gave us a heads-up. But we’ve got to get out of here by the end of the day.”

“And General Organa and the others aren’t back yet?”

Poe shook his head. “No. Lieutenant Connix heard from them, though – the First Order caught wind of them, but they were able to get away with some ships and pilots from Mon Cala. We’re all going to meet up on some remote planet; I’m keying in the coordinates right now.”

Finn let out a sigh of relief. It was reassuring to hear that Rey and the others were safe and had successfully pulled off their mission. Meanwhile, he and Poe had not only lost some of the weapons cache they were supposed to be securing, but the lives of fellow Resistance members because of some karking bounty hunters.

And Finn had almost died, too, but, well, Poe had saved him.

Finn pushed away the weird feeling in his chest that he felt when he realized how much he trusted Poe. Stormtroopers weren’t supposed to do that. They weren’t supposed to care about their unit, only the First Order and its goals.

But he wasn’t First Order anymore. He was Resistance scum, through and through.

“I left Shriv’s squadron in charge of transporting the impounded weapons we brought back,” Poe said, jolting Finn out of his thoughts. “I’m off to do recon on the planet to make sure it’s safe. You coming along, or do you want to tag along with the others?” He looked at Finn with a flicker of a smile, and it was clear he already knew Finn’s answer.

“I’m going with you,” Finn said without hesitation. He sat down in the seat next to Poe in the cockpit.

He looked outside the viewport, at Anoat, which had been the Resistance’s temporary base for only several weeks. It was a garbage planet, literally – its air was polluted after being gassed by the Empire ages ago. Finn didn’t like it much, but it had been nice to settle down for a brief reprieve, walking with Rey among the ruins and helping her scavenge for parts she thought were useful for the Resistance’s ships.

It seemed like they would always be running.

Poe said, “You heard the man, Beebee,” and the astromech tittered in reply. They powered up the engines, soaring through the fogged dirty atmosphere of Anoat, and soon, they were charging through hyperspace.

Then Finn remembered. “Does this ship have a sonic? I was about to shower, but the alarm sounded off…”

Poe laughed. “It does. But you might have to save your shower for later, because we’re going to a junk planet – the Necropolis.”

Of kriffing course.

“I’ll take my chances,” Finn said, sighing, and he went off to the back of the ship.

* * *

It was great to be clean again, no longer smelling of fire and smoke. Finn wasn’t the fussy sort, but First Order regulation had demanded neatness and good hygiene. Despite himself, he still liked the routine of quickly showering, dressing, ensuring his blaster was in working condition, and double-checking his go-bag.

Just as he was about to do the latter, his bag squawked. A head poked out of the opening, vivid grey-and-orange plumage streaked across white feathers, and beady eyes blinked up at him.

“I thought you were with the _Falcon_ ,” Finn said, frowning, as the porg hopped out of the bag. “What are you doing here?”

The porg just let out a trill. Finn had a feeling that she had stayed behind at camp before the _Falcon_ had left, pestering that redhead girl from Corellia who had taken a liking to her. Then, when Finn had returned, the porg had probably jumped into his bag looking for food, since he oftentimes stashed crumbs in there for the _Falcon_ ’s native porg population.

“I guess you’re hungry,” Finn said. “Let’s ask Poe if he’s got any rations to spare.”

He pulled Poe’s jacket on – it had been his jacket for a while, but there was a part of his mind that insisted that it was Poe’s – and wandered out to the cockpit once again. Poe was talking to BB-8, but when Finn entered the cockpit, he glanced back and blinked at the sight of the porg perched on Finn’s shoulder.

“You brought a friend,” Poe said, his eyebrows raised.

“This one’s clingy,” Finn said, with a snort. “And dumb and lacking self-preservation instincts. She flew out of the _Falcon_ to explore Anoat and got sick from the poisoned air. Me and Rey had to practically handfeed her until she got better.”

Finn had found the porg scrabbling her talons against the transparisteel viewport of the _Falcon_ , desperately attempting to return inside to the breathable air.

Poe paused. “That’s… nice, of you and Rey.”

Poe sometimes had a strange look in his eyes when Rey was around or was mentioned, even though he treated her with his usual friendliness and charm. Finn chalked it up to Poe being unused to Rey, Jedi powers and all – which was ridiculous, Rey was Rey. Hopefully, he would warm up to her in time.

Poe continued: “Make sure that bird steers clear of this ship’s wiring. It’s a loan from a Hutt crime lord, and I like my organs where they are.”

“Aye, aye, Commander,” Finn said, saluting. “I was just wondering if you had any rations to spare, so I can keep her teeth occupied. I have some emergency ones in my go-bag, but I wanted to save them…”

“There’s some in that compartment over there.” Poe pointed to it, and Finn nodded and began rummaging through it, sifting through emergency starship parts, medpacs, and other miscellaneous supplies.

“Does your porg have a name?” Poe said, as Finn searched.

Huh. He’d never even thought of that.

“Nope,” Finn admitted. “The _Falcon_ ’s home to dozens of these guys by now, and it seems kind of useless keeping track.”

“Well, if this one’s your friend, she should have some kind of name,” Poe said, lightly. “I don’t just call Beebee-Ate ‘bot’ or ‘droid’ or ‘you there.’”

BB-8 beeped in agreement.

“Exactly,” Poe said.

Finn had finally located a sealed packet of rations, which he tore open and held out to the porg. Immediately, she dove into it, pecking at the unappetizing bits of brown, and he shook his head in exasperation as he watched her.

A name, huh?

“Help me think of one,” Finn said. He remembered the first time he met Poe, both of them escaping the _Finalizer,_ and Poe had asked if he could call him Finn. He had liked finally having his own name, finally being more than a number.

“I’m not a name databank, you know,” Poe said, with an amused huff of his breath, but it seemed like he also remembered how they had first met, and there was a genuine warmness in his tone.

That was how they spent the rest of the flight to the Necropolis: debating over a name for the porg. Finn kept mentioning names he remembered from holovids and comics contraband that he had read – “Buddy, you are not naming this bird Lady Laserbeam or Hyperspacia” – while Poe suggested names that Finn didn’t think fit at all.

Until, finally, Poe said, “Maybe you could name her after someone you’ve met, any people that you’ve encountered that have interesting names,” and then shut his mouth, likely remembering that only until recently, Finn had known troopers with numbers, or murdering evil assholes like Captain Phasma and General Hux.

However, it wasn’t bad advice.

“I didn’t know Rose’s sister, but her sister – Paige – sounded very brave, and had a nice name,” Finn said, quietly. “But I bet Rose would be weirded out with me naming a bird after her sister. I did meet someone else once, who was friendly to me—”

He remembered the garbage moon of Maher. A girl who told him that a little rebellion was alright, her arm slung over his shoulder and her eyes kind, even though he was a stormtrooper and compassion was dangerous. He had carried her words with him every time he talked and trained with his squadmates in his unit (… _Slip…_ ) – every time he felt a pang when he saw officers being cruel and uncaring – until it had followed him to Jakku, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, fire his blaster.

“Marialew,” Finn said. “That’s kind of long, so we can shorten it. Ria, maybe.”

“Sounds good,” Poe said. There was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, but he didn’t push Finn for an explanation. “Nice to meet you, Ria.”

The newly christened Ria chirped in response, and that was that.

* * *

The Necropolis reminded Finn of Jakku.

Jakku had been biting winds and feverish heat, relentless daylight and relentless desert. The Necropolis was darker and cooler, relentless twilight, the atmosphere flushed violet from a nearby sun. It was no desert, but a sterile plain of durasteel decay.

Nevertheless, it was the same concept: A graveyard filled with the skeletons of ships.

“At least the atmosphere is breathable,” Finn said, as he, Poe, and BB-8 exited Grakkus’ ship. (Ria had insisted on tagging along, too, climbing into a pocket of Poe’s jacket and nestling there. Finn had to be careful how he moved and walked to avoid disrupting the porg.)

Finn asked, “See anything?”

Poe was peering through a pair of monoculars. “Nothing so far. Wait, I think I see something…” He handed the monoculars to Finn, and Finn saw it, too.

Climbing through the rubble, out crept a creature. Finn couldn’t tell what species it was, except that it was hooded and covered in bandages, its eyes gleaming bright, approaching them with an odd gait in its step.

“Travelers,” the creature said, in a rough scratchy voice. “What brings you to Necropolis?”

“Me and my friends are hoping to seek shelter here for a while,” Poe said, unflinching at the sight of the mysterious being. “And scavenge for some parts, if we’re allowed – you and your planet will be compensated with credits, of course.”

“Why here?” the creature said. “The Necropolis is a land of bones and brutality.”

“Brutality?” Finn repeated. That didn’t sound good.

“It is home to evildoers who extort and harm travelers like you. My father was king, but he and my siblings were imprisoned by those others who rule this place now…” The creature blinked its ion flare eyes. “Help me free my family, and we will let you take shelter here and take whatever you want.”

At that, Finn and Poe traded glances.

“We’re not going to a fight a civil war for you,” Poe said. “Truth be told, we’re on the run from the First Order. We need a place to move base for a couple of weeks until we find somewhere else. We’re not asking anyone to choose sides, and we’d like the courtesy of you doing the same. This is just about… refuge.”

“The Resistance,” the stranger said, a raspy harsh cackle. “If you are the Resistance, aren’t you heroes? Aren’t you protectors of the vulnerable and the weak and the downtrodden? Even if you leave my father to rot, my brothers and sisters are younglings held against their will. Save _them.”_

Poe’s brow was furrowed. “We’re going to talk this over for a second. Hang on.”

He pulled Finn toward the ship, out of hearing distance from the stranger. “What do you think, Finn?”

“It’s worth checking out,” Finn said. “We should at least meet the other people who live on this planet and hear their side of the story. But this guy here seems shadier than a bantha’s backside.”

“No arguments about that,” Poe said. “Remember what Snap and Jess said about Pastoria? We’re not going to do a repeat of that.”

“Exactly.” Finn paused. “Look, Poe, I know it’s important that we move base and keep the Resistance safe, but we should give this guy, any other locals, fair warning. When I was waiting in line for the sonics, Iolo told me what happened to Tah’Nuhna. They were _nice_ , gave us supplies and good food and everything – and Fondor, too—”

“And Mon Cala,” Poe murmured.

Finn started. “I thought you said that General Organa’s mission was a success.”

“It was,” Poe said, quietly, “but the First Order moved in to bomb and occupy Mon Cala right as they left.”

 _“And we took their ships?!”_

Finn knew as well as anyone how cruel the First Order was. But it was horrifying that every time, every planet the Resistance touched ground on, neutral parties and innocents would suffer as punishment.

He felt sick.

“Hey, hey, Finn _,_ ” Poe said. Just like always, he was right by Finn’s side, his touch gentle on Finn’s shoulder. “It’s bad. I know it’s bad. But we’ve got to keep going. All these worlds helped us. They knew the risks, and they chose to do the humane thing. They chose to be kind.”

“Yeah,” Finn said. “You’re right.” He took a shaky breath. “It just seems like such a waste, you know?”

Lives lost and homelands ravaged. Skies burning and children taken. When he was younger, Finn had dreams---but they faded when he woke, gasping, breathless, and all he could do was wipe the tears from his face and try to imagine a woman who would sing to him and call him something that wasn’t FN-2187.

Poe nodded in understanding. “We’ll win this war eventually, Finn. Together.”

“Together.”

* * *

The creature’s name was Epe’ira. She – apparently, she was a _she_ – lead them through the wasteland of ships, taking to them to the captors who had taken her family prisoner.

They clambered across broken hulls and cracked viewports. Poe helped BB-8 roll across the uneven steep surfaces, while Finn had his hand on his blaster, senses on alert.

Eventually, they reached a structure that looked like a giant three-dimensional web. It was all intertwined plasticine and woven wires, and through the cracks, Finn saw glittering eyes.

“And now,” Epe’ira said, “you prove your mettle, heroes.”

It was _really_ hard to tell if the shrouded figure was using sarcasm or not.

There was another hooded creature standing in front of the web. It was much shorter than Epe’ira, but it was the same mysteriousness, cloak and bandages, and Finn wondered if that was supposed to be the local fashion.

Poe strode over to the smaller stranger.

“Hey there,” he said. “I’m Poe, and these are my friends Beebee-Ate and Finn. We’re visitors to this planet, and we’re seeking aid and shelter from the Necropolis.”

The smaller creature spoke, high-pitched: “Is Epe’ira a friend of yours as well?”

“We just met her,” Poe said, carefully. “She said that she has kid siblings jailed in here, but honestly, like I said, we’re new, and we don’t know anything of the local politics.”

“Epe’ira is our enemy,” the creature said. “Her father enslaved us – we, the Fossors—”

Of course, Finn thought. Of course, the first person they had met was the bad guy. He and Poe spun to confront Epe’ira, who was standing there motionless on her spindly legs.

“I am not anyone’s enemy,” Epe’ira said. “I am here for my hatchmates. We did not enslave your people. We are still young; you know that I cannot subdue you, with your weapons and your machinery.”

“But you will grow,” the Fossor said. “You will grow, and you will trap us in that web again.”

The Fossor withdrew a vibrostaff from his belt, and he held it in Epe’ira’s direction with ease. Epe’ira hissed, snapped, the bandages unraveling, the cloak slipping, and that’s when Finn saw that she had rows and rows of eyes.

“Poe,” Finn said, voice tense, his hand on his blaster, “well?”

Before Poe could say anything, Epe’ira screeched – and startled, Ria woke from inside Finn’s pocket, chirping, fluttering, and she dove at Epe’ira’s eyes – Epe’ira shrieked, and blindly charged forward, a rampage of fangs and limbs – and Finn hurried to get out of the way, but all he felt was a blinding pain in his right leg.

He found himself falling, his vision blurred. Poe shouted his name and ran to his side.

From the dusty ground, Finn saw the Fossor advancing upon the wounded Epe’ira, vibroblade whirling wide, narrowly missing hitting him and Poe—but then there was the sound of blaster fire, the hum of another vibroblade activating, and Finn was looking up to see the rest of Black Squadron. Jess was holding out her blaster and another human—who?—twirled his own vibrostaff.

“I suppose this is me returning the favor,” said the human with a wry smile. He was sandy-haired, blue-eyed, and dimly, Finn recognized him as one of the prisoners they had rescued from Corellia.

“Senator Casterfo,” Poe said.

“Commander Dameron,” the former senator said.

Finn took the opportunity the pass the pfassk out, sinking into blissful unconsciousness.

* * *

“That was the worst attempt at diplomacy I’ve ever seen,” Suralinda said. “I don’t understand how you had the bad luck to encounter an evil spider lady who nearly convinced you to re-enact the second holoseries of AstroCitadel Breakout, when the Fossors were _right here_ and ready to work with us.”

The Fossors had brought them to another structure, a large web dwelling that must have been the imprisoned king’s former palace.

“Senator Casterfo nearly took off that guard’s head trying to make sure you and Finn didn’t get hit,” she continued. “Then that would have been a _real_ diplomatic disaster.”

“Lay off him, Sura,” Jess said. “Poe’s worried.”

Poe repressed a sigh. Yeah, he was worried, all right.

Epe’ira had bit Finn on the leg, which was a swelling ugly mess, even though Snap had retrieved some bacta from his x-wing, while the Fossors had injected him with something that was supposed to be an antivenom.

Still, Finn was knocked out and feverish. Poe was kneeling beside Finn, who was lying on a cot that the Fossors had provided.

It was a surprise to see Black Squadron here, but Poe was grateful to have his team back. Snap, Karé, Jess, and Suralinda had left to escort Ransolm Casterfo to Riosa, where he had attempted to reach out to old contacts of his to see if they would be of any use to the Resistance.

Long story short, it was a dead end, although Casterfo had received one tip-off that _might_ lead somewhere off-planet. However, he wanted to consult General Organa first, and just as they were about to return to Anoat, they heard news of the evacuation.

They decided to fly to the Necropolis ahead of time and meet with the locals. While they were in the middle of diplomatic talks, the Fossors’ scanners detected Grakkus’ ship entering the Necropolis, and so, Black Squadron plus Casterfo had sprang into action to find them.

To rescue them, because they clearly needed it.

Poe looked down at Finn, his chest tight.

“You could hold his hand, you know,” Suralinda said, and her voice was softer, no longer accusatory. “He’s unconscious, and it’s a comfort thing.”

“I…” Poe said, blinking.

He had wanted to before, when Rey had brought Finn back from Starkiller Base, lightsaber burned and frostbitten. But he hadn’t. Back then, Finn had merely been the handsome rebellious stormtrooper who had saved his life, and Poe had restrained himself.

Now, Finn was more than that.

Finn was his friend. He was…

“It’s fine,” Poe said. “I’ll just wait until he wakes up.”

The door to the quarters opened, and there was Senator Casterfo, a soft faint frown curving his mouth. Snap and Karé were beside him, and they didn’t look too pleased themselves.

“Is everything alright?” Poe said, snapping his head up.

“The Fossors heard about Mon Cala,” Casterfo said, the lines of his cheekbones severe, stressed, and he ran a hand through the grey-blonde strands of his hair. “They’re concerned about retaliation.”

“Yeah, they were just about to agree, but then word blew up over the HoloNet,” Snap said. “The thing with the old king – Ara-Nea – still freaks them out.”

Karé nodded. “The Necropolis is a treasure trove of starship parts. The Fosssors believe that the First Order’s going to force them to strip this planet bare. They don’t want to be slaves, or anything like that, ever again.”

“Which is entirely fair,” Jess said, sharply. “But even if they don’t act, they’re still going to end up under the First Order’s thumb eventually.”

Poe said, “Exactly. If it’s not today, it’s tomorrow.”

“I have faith in Leia,” Casterfo said, sitting down on one of the chairs. “But I worry for the galaxy.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Poe said. He didn’t mean for his tone to rise in volume, but it did.

Casterfo said: “I mourn for the planets harmed, Commander Dameron. Everywhere the Resistance goes, it inadvertently brings destruction and loss, and it’s a great burden to ask governments, leaders, soldiers, to join us. The First Order is strong, strong in a way that’s reminiscent of the old Empire…”

He trailed off, then he found his voice: “And the Resistance needs to be strong, too, but our mission is rather clouded, isn’t it? What are we promising our allies once the First Order falls? What makes this war worth it?”

“That’s easy,” Poe said. “Peace.”

“Freedom,” Jess put in.

“Yes,” Casterfo said. “But the First Order promises that, too, don’t they? With their planet-killers and annihilating armies, they say that the result of their might and power is peace and freedom. They point to the dysfunction of the New Republic, reminding us that it would be madness to restore it. And they’re right – I lived it, and it crushed me.”

Poe looked at Casterfo in disbelief. “Are you saying that you’d prefer the First Order to win?”

This was one of General Organa’s closest friends?

“I’m not saying that,” Casterfo said, tiredly. “Only that we need to be better. We need a plan for after. We need vision and hope and light. The Resistance doesn’t need wild akk dogs of war. I heard about you, Commander, the _Raddus_ …”

The familiar guilt flared in his heart. It was as if the gravity had been altered on the planet – it was as if all the stars had fallen out of the sky – and Poe felt that dizzying, aching hurt.

He knew; he knew he had fucked up massively, majorly; he knew that it was the worst mistake of his life, and every single breath he took, every single time he piloted a ship, it was to try to make things right.

Poe recoiled, struck out. “You don’t know huttwash about me. Or anything about the Resistance. Senator, you’ve been imprisoned for years. You don’t get to lecture me about politics.”

Unexpectedly, Suralinda said: “He’s got a point, you know.”

“Suralinda!”

“It’s basic psychological warfare, Jess,” Suralinda said, ever the journalist.

“I’m going to step outside for some air,” Poe said. He looked down at Finn again, and this time, he touched his hand. He left the room, left the webbed palace.

* * *

Snap found Poe looking down at the vast graveyard of ships, BB-8 by his side.

The light from the nearby sun reflected off the shimmering plasticine valley. It was as if some galactic arsonist of dusk had set it ablaze, deep purple and pink and orange and yellow, and Poe thought: _It’s beautiful._

Poe said, “The thing is… the karked up thing is, we were having almost the same exact conversation I was having with Casterfo. Me and Finn, right before he got attacked. Finn’s worried, too, that this war’s getting too long and costly. Maybe Casterfo’s right.”

Snap let out a noisy sigh. “I know you’re not the type who pays close attention to politics, but Senator Casterfo was a Centrist, kid. There were a lot of Imperial sympathizers and worshippers on his side, and the First Order came from them.”

“It’s not worth discounting his point of view entirely, just because of his old party,” Poe said, shaking his head. “General Organa trusts him.”

Snap snorted. “Sure she does. Senator Casterfo has a lot in common with the late Han Solo.”

_"Snap."_

“Okay, sorry, that was entirely uncalled for and, uh, vulgar,” Snap said, looking genuinely regretful. “You can write me up or tell Karé later.”

Snap was awkwardly silent, then said, “Poe… don’t let that guy throw what happened with the fleet in your face. He has no right to accuse you of being a mad war dog, because I’ve known you for years – kriff, my _parents_ have known you for years – and yeah, you’ve got your share of screw-ups, but you’re not that.”

“I,” Poe said, “I just wonder what my ma would’ve done if she was in my place. She would’ve been better. Braver. All the time, I think of her, but I don’t know if I’ll ever fly as fast as her or high as her.”

Snap put his arm around Poe’s shoulders. “You’re one of the best damned pilots I’ve ever seen, Poe. Space crazy and married to the stars like no one else. Your mother would be proud. Take it from me. Hell, she’ll never say it, but _my_ mom’s proud of _me_ , and I was a criminal when I was a kid, worse than your Kijimi gap year.”

Poe gave Snap a crooked smile. “History is a weird thing, isn’t it? We’re in the same place as our mothers. Pilots against the darkness.”

“I wish it was different,” Snap said. “But right now, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * *

Finn dreamed in violet. He could feel the world humming, reverberating, like a song that Finn didn’t know, like it was a song that never ended.

He remembered General Organa saying: _It’s life’s music. The song we make._

He tried to focus, narrow in, widen out, and it was like trying to hold the entire sky in your hands.

There was a monster sleeping underneath the surface of the Necropolis.

He woke up with a jolt, his heart hammering in his chest.

“That’s bad,” he said. “That’s really bad.”

He was alone in the room. Wincing, he pulled himself upward from the cot and held onto the warped webbed walls to keep his balance.

There was a vibrostaff left in the room – it must have been Senator Casterfo’s. Vaguely, Finn wondered where he was, and Poe, and BB-8, and the other pilots of Black Squadron, but he knew that there was something more important—urgent—he had to do.

Finn grabbed the vibrostaff. His right leg still ached, but the pain had somewhat receded, and struggling, he used the staff to walk.

He didn’t know how he managed to drag himself outside and across the masses of ships, but it was all a haze of muted pain. Stumbling, gripping, limping, following a path that only he could see.

Then, he stopped.

It arose from the ruins, long-necked, scaly, screaming, a giant wormlike being.

Epe’ira must have raised it, Finn thought – or no, he knew. She nurtured it from egg, a descendant, just like her, and she was waiting until the day she could fight the Fossors, free her father, and take over the planet again.

Now that Epe’ira was imprisoned, it had no master. It was hungry and angry and restless.

There was a cry, and Finn turned, saw a group of Fossors behind them. The hooded small creatures stared up at the monster with wide-eyed terror.

“I’ve got this,” Finn said, taking a deep breath, and he activated the vibrostaff.

He reached into himself, into that feeling of deepness and wideness. It was terrifying. It always would be. But it was singing, and all he had to do was breathe and breathe along with it and let his heartbeat fall into rhythm.

He lashed the staff out, landing a blow against the monster’s side. Then he was dodging, leaping, ignoring the spasms of pain in his thigh, his teeth gritted—

As he moved, it was like the music got louder and louder and louder. The Fossors behind him were cowering behind a crumbled ship, while Finn did his best to redirect the monster. He was getting good at angering it, the vibrostaff jabbed over and over against its side, surface cuts that made the beast roar.

But it was a lot of running, a lot of jumping, and eventually he felt his leg giving out. He felt himself collapse to his knees on the ground, shaking, and he could barely hold his grasp on the staff.

How the kriff was Rey able to do this?

The monster loomed above him, and Finn threw the staff. He willed it to strike the underside of the beast, and it struck, burrowed, making the monster flop sideways.

But it got up again. Even as its wound bled red, it loomed over Finn.

Then: the scream of laser cannons.

Black Squadron was in the sky, X-wings and Poe's borrowed ship careening overhead and firing, and Finn laughed with relief and joy.

Finn turned around. He looked at the group of huddled Fossors and said, “Rey saved you, didn’t she? I know the First Order’s scary – I grew up in it – but _you owe us._ You owe us because Rey knew the risks and she chose to be _kind._ ”

That was the answer, he thought. Poe was right.

He was lost in the music again, the thunderstorm, the tempest, and a beat later, Poe was right by his side.

“Finn! What the pfassk were you thinking? --You’re hyperventilating,” Poe said, distressed, as Finn shuddered, felt the pain throb in his leg, felt the atoms of the universe.

 _This is the Force?_ Finn thought. _This is the Force._

It was like his heart was getting torn from his chest. It was like the music was swallowing him whole.

Somewhere, a man was gunned down by a stormtrooper—

Somewhere, a child was crying as they were torn from their mother’s arms—

Somewhere, a force of utter darkness raised its head, shifting its position on a throne—

Somewhere, stars died—hearts stopped—suns burned out—

“Breathe,” Poe said, his voice firm, but desperate. “C’mon, buddy. Slow breaths. Deep breaths.” He counted, counted, counted, his hand holding Finn’s, warm and certain, and eventually, Finn breathed.

* * *

“I can’t believe you ran off to fight that thing when we stepped out to contact the general,” Poe said, shaking his head in disbelief. “We were asking her advice on negotiations, and that’s when we learned that _Rey_ suggested this planet, because she freed the Fossors.”

“We weren’t supposed to engage with them yet, were we?” Finn said.

“Nope,” Poe said. “Just recon, to make sure that the Order wasn’t around. Neither was Black Squadron. General Organa wanted Rey to talk with them first, and we jumped the blaster.”

“To be fair, that was Senator Casterfo’s idea,” Suralinda said.

Poe wrinkled his nose at the mention of the senator. “We fail at diplomacy. All of us.”

Currently, they were sitting in one of the guest rooms in the webbed palace. They had just finished dinner, an odd spicy but tasty meal served by the grateful Fossors, and Finn had another yet bacta treatment slapped on his leg.

“It helped that Finn stabbed that worm, though,” Snap pointed out, thoughtfully. “Pretty sure that it would’ve tunneled underground if it wasn’t injured. We would have lost it.”

“I’m still proud that I was able to land that final shot to its head,” Suralinda proclaimed.

“You landed the winning shot?” Snap scoffed, skeptically. “I blasted it right in the heart—”

Karé nudged him. “I blasted it right in the eye, babe.”

Jess: “The other eye, dead center—”

The good-natured ribbing went on. Finn couldn’t help but grin. He liked seeing Black Squadron’s comradery, their closeness; it was what he had longed for in his squad as a stormtrooper, long ago, even if they had been in the service of an organization that was cruel and terrible.

Ria was nestled in his lap, chittering. Finn shushed the porg and slipped her a crumb.

When Finn looked up, Poe was smiling at him. It was the kind of smile that made Finn feel warm all over, that moved his heart more than the Force itself.

Well, the Force itself scared him, and he didn’t even want to think about it. Not right now. Maybe he'd tell Rey later.

But whatever was going on with Poe? This was… something. Something that he couldn’t name yet, but he knew that Poe was important to him. He knew that he wanted to fight by Poe’s side to the very end.

“So why is the name Marialew important to you?” Poe said. “You don’t have to tell me…”

“It’s not a big deal,” Finn said, and he told him.

Eventually, the rest of Black Squadron were pulled into their conversation when Poe said flatly, “Sure. So let me get this straight. You were assigned to clean up an infestation of bats in Starkiller Base. These giant alien bats that can eat people’s heads clean off. You thought they were cute, smuggled some out to safety to a garbage moon with the assistance of a trash collector girl named Marialew, and you occasionally visited. _These decapitating man-eating bats._ ”

“Um, yeah?" 

“Wow, Karé, I bet you wish your man was that cool,” Suralinda said, prompting Karé to roll her eyes, while Snap said, indignant, “I am!”

* * *

Later, General Organa invited Poe to tea on the _Falcon_. Poe took a cautious sip. It was Gatalentan tea, strong and fragrant.

“I heard about your argument with Ransolm,” she said. “I’d tell him to apologize, but he’s a stubborn son of a mynock.”

“It’s alright,” Poe said, putting down his cup. “Senator Casterfo was saying… that the First Order promises peace and freedom, because they’re powerful. Because they have planet-killing weapons and murdering armies.

“But that’s exactly why we – why the Resistance and its allies – are the better outcome at the end of the day, aren’t we? Because the First Order doesn’t provide peace and freedom, that’s an illusion.

“That’s suffering, and that’s tyranny.

“Wherever we go, whoever helps us… people are going to get hurt. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of us, but it’s going to happen, and we can’t stop the Order from doing it. But we just have to give as much as we take.

“For those that fight for us and protect us, we must be willing to fight for them and protect them, too. Sometimes that means retreating to live another day, but we’ll return and come back fighting stronger, and one day, the First Order will be defeated for good.”

And Leia Organa smiled. “Well said, Commander. That’s why the starbird was the symbol of the old Rebellion, and it’s our symbol now. The firebird never dies -- it rises from the ashes, renewed in nova.”

The starbird. Poe remembered the firebird pin that Finn had worn during their mission to Coronet City, boldly displaying it for all to see.

Senator Casterfo had asked: _What makes this war worth it?_

Peace. Freedom. And maybe, the promise of happiness when this was all over: Finn's hand in his, Finn's smile. 

Then General Organa reached out, put her hand on Poe's shoulder. “Ransolm wasn’t entirely wrong. We need plans for what’s coming afterward. We need to let the galaxy know we’re prepared and we have a vision worth fighting for.

"I’ve been talking with politicians and officers alike: Ransolm, Charth Brethen, Aftab Ackbar, Commander D’Acy, Lieutenant Connix. If anything ever happens to me, you’re my second-in-command, and you must be ready for what’s ahead.”

Poe couldn’t ever see winning this war without Leia. He couldn’t imagine trying to orchestrate harmony and unity in the galaxy without her.

But he nodded. “What's the plan?”

**Author's Note:**

> Edited to add: I'm just reading Spark of the Resistance now, and whoops, apologies, this is not compliant with that. Ah, sorry, of course Rose is a sweetheart and she named all the Falcon porgs. ♥


End file.
